The Final Collapse of the Empire
by CardigansAndMimosas
Summary: I'm not Jackie Kennedy.


Tilte – The Final Collapse of the Empire

Description – I'm not Jackie Kennedy.

My husband. His speech. My dress. His Tie. My hair. His teleprompter. My pearls. His honesty. My deep breaths. His pauses. Our son. My tears. His anger. It's. All. Too. Much. I. Can't. Breath. I. Can't. Breath.

The State of the Union. How did I get here? I can't begin to tell you. I put on a dress. I had my hair curled. I had my makeup done. I shook hands. I sat. I clapped. I showed up for my husband.

Now, I'm walking, because I need nothing more than to go. Go where? Go anywhere. Someone should've told me that being the First Lady of the United States of America makes you miserable. Someone should've told me that the loneliest you will ever feel is when you sit in a room full of a thousand people who are all sympathizing with you over the death of your precious son. Someone should've told me that the smallest you will ever feel is when, all by yourself, you sit at the grave of your baby boy who no longer walks this earth. Someone should've told me that the melancholiest you will ever feel is when you walk through the halls of the White House and life is bustling around you, while your son lies in the ground. Someone should've told me that entering the White House meant losing my husband and my son. Someone should've told me.

It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply.

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

"Leave me be"

"Ma'am"

"I said leave me be!"

I'm falling. I'm spiraling. I'm spinning.

"Mel!" I hear Fitz. "Mellie!" Fitz is coming to save me. How nice. Oh, Fitz. All I've ever wanted was for you to come running to me. For me. Now, I can't even entertain that thought. All I want is my son. All I want is to be free. All I want is to be released from these chains. I scream. I cry. I kick. I howl. I sob. I hit. I flail. The entire time, my husband's arms are there. In this moment, a thought crosses my mind. If his arms had always been there…. Things may not be this catastrophic, today. I cry even harder as my mind tries to cast blame to eliminate the pain.

"Fitz. It's not your fault." I choke these words out in an attempt to lessen their hold on me. Uttering these words only tightens their hold on me, because I don't mean them.

In that moment, Fitz picks me up, and he carries my limp body to the residence. He's far too out of shape for this, but it is what it is. He places me on the bed, and he rips the dress off of me. My body relaxes at the taste of freedom from the fabric's constraint. He removes the pins from my hair, and shakes my curls loose. He pulls the earrings from my ears. He places my body under the protection of the comforter. He moves to the other side of the bed, while he removes his shoes and his tie. He strips to his boxers, and he climbs in bed beside me. His arms wrap around my wracking body, and his face goes to my hair. We've slept like this every night, since Jerry's death. Deep down, I know this won't last. Truthfully, I don't think that I want it to last.

After my body begins to regain control of its actions, I try to form coherent thoughts, so that I can speak.

"Fitz." I whisper.

"Yeah."

"Do you think that Jerry loved me?"

"Mel, you were his mother."

"Did he know that I loved him?" I sobbed as my body began to react to my sad and broken thoughts.

"He knew." For some reason, that was all the confirmation that I needed.

"Mellie." Fitz whispered.

"Yeah."

"Did Jerry know that I loved him?"

"He did."

"Mels?"

"Hm?"

"You're the strongest woman that I know."

"There are thousands of women that lose their children, every day. They get three days to grieve, or they lose their jobs. They don't get to fall apart. They don't get to break down. They're the strong ones. I'm not strong, at all."

"It's ok, Mellie."

"I'm mourning much more than just the loss of my son."

I feel Fitz shift, slightly. He knows where this is going.

"I'm mourning the loss of my son, the loss of my husband, and the loss of myself." I shakily whisper. I'm so brutally honest these days. I don't even recognize myself.

I feel Fitz' hot tears on my back, as he tightens his grip on my soft body.

"Me too." He mouths against my shoulder blade.

Fresh tears well in my eyes.


End file.
